


The Name Game

by zanier



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P!America x Reader, 2P!Canada vs 2P!America, 2P!Canada x Reader, 2Ptalia, Allen Jones - Freeform, F/M, Matthieu Williams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2019-01-19 02:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 15,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12400908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zanier/pseuds/zanier





	1. Chapter 1

“Ugly bitch.” The man’s red-dyed hair touched the mellow wallpaper as he leaned on his back without taking his observing eyes off the almost calm woman in front of him.

“I know I’m ugly, but I’m not a bitch.” She replied with a soft voice, slightly looking up from her focused attention on a worn-out book she was holding, almost half-read. She did not want to judge by physical appearance as much as she could, but the sight of a red-haired muscular man, whose fake tanned-body was underneath a black sleeveless shirt, a black leather jacket hanging on his left shoulder, an arrogant grin on his face, red eyes that seem to see-through her faded sweater and blouse, she could not help but almost cringe. She wanted to ask what character he could have possibly cosplaying, but she was not in a friendly mood. Not that she was friendly anyway.

Not a trace of funny expression but an unchanged serious face, he was offended, and even more so when, as she turned back to reading, a slight crease on her untamed eyebrows was visible. “Bitch.” He smirked.

As if her face was not serious enough, it turned even more serious, or rather, murderous. As calm as she could, she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent of the age of the book, and exhaled while gently inserting the ‘ _Cafétea_ ’ receipt of her now cold espresso and empty platter of mocha cupcakes between the pages of her current world. She did not want to waste her time with a stranger, a terrible stranger if she would be more specific. Looking at him for the third time – the first, being surprised and confused of someone occupying the seat across her, while there were a few available seats in the café, but ignored it anyway –, she recalled, as many as she could, past classmates and friends. Seeing no familiarity in any visible part of his being, with her right hand, she carefully lifted up the cup of her coffee and drank all the remaining cold caffeine. She put down the cup on the table, got an unused tissue beside the platter, and gently wiped her mouth for possible traces of her past addiction. She folded the napkin and put it beside the cup.

As if he was a gentleman applying for a job and waiting for the interviewer to ask him questions, he just watched the stranger with amusement and a little confusion. Watching her opening her bag and carefully putting the book inside seemed like an interesting to watch to kill his boredom. And as if he was willing to be more patient, he was surprised when she stood up and was ready to leave. “Hey!”, he managed to say while he grabbed her arm and stood up himself.

“Excuse me?” still soft voice but with obvious annoyance; she pulled back her arm from the gentle grip of the red-haired stranger. She must not, at all cost, let the stranger see her starting fear. _This big man could easily kill me_.

“Uh, wanna hang-out?” he asked with fading confidence.

“No.” And with false brave pace she could display, she walked towards the door. Her being known by the depressed French co-owner of the café was not helpful this time as she was monotonously greeted with her name, “Until next week, (Y/N)”. She could reply only with a forced smile.

Snickering, the ‘big man’ walked faster to open the door before her. “Next week, then, Y/N.”

The supposedly kind gesture crept her out, and seemed to her a way for him to make fun of her. She looked down as she walked out the opened door.

Seeing that she was far enough, the tall red-haired man looked at the direction of the French man while brusquely closing the door. “Is she a regular here?”

“Allen, you scared my customer.” The owner, with his normal unhappy expression unchanged, slightly shook his head for disapproval while wiping clean some cups and glasses by the counter.

“Come on, Francis, she didn’t look scared! I bet she’s just playing hard to get. I know she’s drooling for me.” He motioned to Francis the nearest tables with customers obviously checking him out to prove his point, even though he did not really need to.

“Just don’t come here again during working hours.” Francis replied without taking his eyes off his duty.

 

Francis was not surprised of Y/N’s absence for the next two weeks, and he was unconsciously blaming Allen for it. His mind was preoccupied with depressing thoughts he could not casually share with someone for the past fourteen days; Y/N was his usual listener, and she had been their regular customer for almost seven months; never once missed her once a week (usually Wednesday or Thursday) visit to her favorite coffee shop. Wiping a different batch of cups and glasses, he was thinking what to tell Oliver, the British co-owner of ‘ _Cafétea_ ’, if he was to ask for Y/N.


	2. Chapter 2

The bubbly Brit seemed not very picky with friends. Despite his contrasting character with the depressed French man, he never got tired of trying to cheer him up regardless of failed attempts. His brusque and quite a rebel-type younger step-brother Allen who often got involved into fights was never treated a burden to the cheerful Oliver. Sharing his small Victorian house with the two was never a problem. They knew enough to never get the generous Brit angry, and everything would be fine.

Francis could continue living like a dead man in Oliver’s house and helping with the shop. He sold his own mansion to build a bar for himself and planned to drown his depression in the finest wines, but a meddler British gentleman with good intentions, who happened to need a few more money for the reality of his dream tea and cupcake shop, bumped into Francis. It was eight years ago when they were both interested on the same spot to build their dreams. And after some good persuasion and advice with the help of his eyebrows that seemed to contain positive wisdom, Oliver won a friend and his dream tea and cupcake house, which also served coffee and wine that seemed to give Francis life; though it was not very obvious, but having duties and responsibilities in the shop gave him a social and personal purpose.

As for the jolly gentleman, Oliver could also express sadness and disappointment, and whether they were pure emotions, or just for pretend if he thought it was needed, he was not the type to hide any of those feelings. Noticing Y/N’s absence for two weeks, he got worried. Were his cupcakes terrible? Was there another baker who could bake better than him? He wanted to ask Y/N, but because she was not around, Oliver decided to nag Francis.

“How about this one? Is it too sweet? Is it awful?” Panic was starting to show on Oliver’s pale face; his light foundation started to show some of his freckles.

Having tasted through giving one lazy bite each of the five new different cupcakes Oliver presented to him, the only critique he uttered was “All the same.”, much to Oliver’s horror.

“What do you mean?! Those are different flavors of mocha and chocolate!” Oliver questioned with some gestures of his hand pointing to each cupcake with bite as if to prove their differences. “Those are Y/N’s favorite flavors.” The downcast Brit continued.

And so Francis elaborated his comment. “Tasty.” Deciding whether it would be a good idea or would cause chaos if he would tell Oliver of Allen’s possible involvement of their beloved customer’s absence, he voiced out a suggestion, “Why not ask Al.”

Though Francis always spoke monotonously, his suggestive tone did not escape the Brit’s good observation. His downcast big eyebrows slightly rose, and Oliver smiled brightly as if he got the cue, and in a high-pitched voice, he screamed, “Allen!!”.

And as if he got the cue, Francis left the kitchen with just one of the cupcakes. It was a good thing they were in the house, so Francis could just go to his room and cradle a half-full bottle of red wine while unwillingly having to hear a ranting British downstairs.

Receiving no response, another high-pitched voice was heard, “Allen!!”. Oliver was about to go upstairs to surprise his slightly hard-headed brother when the front door burst open.

“Ollie, I’m hungry.” Allen saw Oliver by the stairs, but he went straight to the kitchen and sat down on one of the old-fashioned chairs and waited to be served.

Oliver walked back to the kitchen. His hands on his hips, and his smiling face were not really a good greeting.

Confused and really hungry, he did not hesitate to eat the four cupcakes with bites in just some few seconds. “Wow, Ollie, these are great! I want more!”

Hearing the praise, Oliver did not mind the mess of crumbs Allen made. He gladly served Allen all the other fifteen cupcake experiments with the same flavors of the same batch he gave to Francis. Watching Allen enjoying the treats, Oliver did not forget to ask his question. “Did you go to the shop three weeks ago?” Of course, he asked it with a smile.

“Well, I forgot my wallet here, so I asked some from Francis.” Allen replied while munching on his ninth cupcake.

Oliver widened his smile and went nearer Allen. He bent down to Allen’s right ear, “I told you not to come there, right?”

“Hmm, this is really good, Ollie. Especially this one.” He pointed to the second of the darkest treats with a creamy mocha filling and milk chocolate frosting. He knew so well how to avoid being scolded, though it was not always effective, like this time.

“Oh, really! I am so glad!” Oliver stood straight and slightly clapped to show his happiness, before he playfully pinched Allen’s right ear. “My dear, tell me, did you happen to scare some customer away?” The sweetness in Oliver’s tone remained the same.

“No way! Everyone was looking at me. They were stunned!” Allen tried not to push Oliver’s hand, for he knew it might cause him trouble.

“Really? Did you talk to any of them?” Oliver continued his interrogation.

“Well, there’s this one weird girl who was really good at hiding her attraction to me. Francis knew her and… aw! Ollie, that hurts!” Allen was now desperate to get his ear away from Oliver’s hand.

“My dear Allen, just don’t go near the shop again, understand?” then Oliver moved his hand from Allen’s ear to his red hair and patted it with gentleness. “I’m glad you liked the cupcakes! Eat them all!”

Being watched by Oliver, Allen could not loudly rant on why his presence was never welcome in the shop. He just continued savoring the free food served to him.


	3. Chapter 3

It was the third Wednesday since Y/N’s last visit to Cafétea. She was not surprised, but still a little disappointed, to see her usual corner seat by the window taken by someone familiar. She decided to take the available table beside it. _Where did I see him? Why does he look familiar? Was he a classmate before? I hope not._ And then it struck her. The not so neatly tied blonde hair with some loose strands that rest on the man’s broad shoulders, the facial hair that suited him very well, the intimidating sunglasses that were very common to celebrities in disguise, the one-size-larger-than-his-actual-size red plaid button shirt, and the large plate on the table – a mountain of pancakes in the middle of a sea of maple syrup –, there was no doubt it was the same man who was always sitting on the seat she was now sitting on. Perhaps he was a rival who also wanted that corner spot by the window, but she was not there for two weeks, and the man finally had his moment.

She was too busy trying to remember who the man was that she did not see him slightly glanced at her. She was, at least, relieved to realize that she did not know the man; fearing the possible embarrassment of bumping into someone she knew but ignored that person’s presence, simply because she forgot the person’s name.

Seeing that she pulled out a pen and the same notebook she always had with her and started writing, he was quite relieved. He needed not to give up his new and desired seat after all.

Oliver arrived with a tray on his hand to her table. He was so happy to see a regular customer back again. He should know the regulars, for it would be good for business. He gladly set down on the table Y/N’s usual order with an extra cupcake – that flavor Allen praised the most. Readying his rehearsed cute smiling pouty face, he asked Y/N, “Poppet, where were you these past two weeks, if you don’t mind me asking?”

It could not be ignored, the handsome Brit’s successful cute pouty face, and so Y/N smiled to not offend the worried Oliver and just answered with apologetic tone and expression, “I’m sorry, Oliver. I was just really busy with something. I could not leave the house.”

“Oh, Poppet! I’m glad you’re back! I have a new cupcake, and will you please taste it now? I really want to know if you’ll like it. You see, Poppet, I thought you no longer like my cupcakes, so…” As if the inquiring gentleman saw through the sunglasses of the man sitting on the next table, Oliver decided to talk to him as well after his conversation with Y/N.

“Oh, Oliver! That’s sweet of you!” And then she took a bite. Oliver could see the gleam on her eyes. “Oliver, this is amazing! You’re amazing! Thank you. I wish I could bake like you.”

“Oh, Poppet, if that happened, then you’d no longer come here.” He giggled. “I’m glad you like it. Enjoy your meal!” He then gave Y/N an even happier smile, and turned around to face the man on the next table. “Hello, dear M-hmmsir!” Oliver managed to improvise upon receiving a slight frown from the man. “Enjoy your meal!” He continued with a smile before leaving the dining area.

After serving all the customers at the moment, Oliver went to Francis and pouted, not rehearsed. “I think Mattie is angry at me.”

“I told you not to bother him while he’s eating his pancakes,” Francis reminded him while looking around to check the surroundings, “and he doesn’t want to be talked to here.” He added.

“I know, but… alright.” Oliver’s pout was instantly turned into a welcoming smile when a group of three women approached the counter. “Lovely day, ladies!” And he went back to business.

 

Sitting across an irritated Y/N, the three women seemed so carefree of their loud conversation. Y/N could not focus on her writing. Just a while ago, she was inspired to write a short story about an enchanted pancake island, no, not exactly that, but she had been looking quite attentively at the plate on the table next to hers.

One of the women who was wearing a chic floral dress sat facing Y/N’s and the man’s direction, and so she noticed the lonesome man. She whispered – but with a loud voice one might not be sure if it was truly a whisper – to her two friends, “Oh my god, he’s hot!”

And looking directly at the direction of the ‘hot’ man, they smiled and bet who would go first. One of them was wearing tight jeans and a lacy white tank top; the other one wore a short skirts and long sleeved shirt.

Tank Top Lady decided to go first. She gracefully stood up and casually walked to the other table and sat opposite the man. “Hello there, handsome. Lonely? Want some company?”

Y/N was not a fan of this kind of scene, and she did not want to be thought of as a gossiper by her frequent glances at the now just a hill of pancakes.

Tank Top Lady was just about to bend down slightly to reveal some more attractions she could exhibit, but was stopped by the hot man’s reply: “No.” She frowned, and dismay was too obvious on her expression. She was not used of her beauty being rejected. Tank Top Lady was not just gorgeous; she was also persistent, brave, and confident, and so she tried again. She crossed her legs, and moved her right foot to touch the ‘hot’ man’s jeans-covered leg. “You’re lonely. I’m lonely. Why don’t we…” but she could not continue as the frown of annoyance on the ‘hot’ man’s face became too intimidating. Tank Top Lady stood up and rushed to her friends.

Despite of not wanting to witness a flirting scene, Y/N did and was impressed of the outcome. She continued writing. _The great giant living in the enchanted pancake island would not allow anyone to trade goods with him, and so he spread more maple syrup into the sea to…_ “Wait, this does not seem so right, but, uh well this is just a draft.” Y/N told herself as she silently giggled and questioned her sanity. “It’s just a plot draft.” She was still trying to convince herself.

Thinking it was her she was giggling about, Tank Top Lady sat on the chair in front of the surprised Y/N. “Bitch. Why are you laughing at me?”

Y/N did not go back to _Cafétea_ to be called ‘bitch’ again. She was asking herself and the universe why she had to deal with this kind of humans, despite of her trying to avoid not just them, but any other kinds of humans as much as possible. She found humans very complex, and usually negative type of complex. “I’m not a bitch.” She replied with her usual straight face.

“You are. And you laughed at me.” Tank Top Lady replied.

“Were you being funny?” Y/N wanted to just keep silent, but she could not control herself.

“BITCH!” Tank Top Lady could had had grabbed Y/N’s mug of espresso to splash on Y/N, but Y/N was quick enough to point her pen at Tank Top Lady’s face.

“Not. My. Coffee. Bitch.” Y/N’s cold stare could not be ignored. Her voice might not be as loud as the three female friends, but the warning was audible enough for the two other friends to hear. Seeing that Tank Top Lady’s hand carefully crept away from her mug, Y/N lowered her pen and smiled. It was not the same smile she gave to Francis and Oliver. “Evaporate.” Y/N, with unconscious glare, said in a whisper, but anyone looking at her could read it from her half-smiling lips.

Tank Top Lady invited her friends to go. Now, Skirt Lady had noticed earlier that Y/N was writing something and it was when she giggled. Skirt Lady looked afraid but polite and fair enough; she walked to Y/N and apologized for her friend’s behavior. Relief was evident on her face when Y/N replied, “Take care of her, of each other properly. Don’t spoil her or anyone on something bad. I’m glad you seem smart to analyze the situation. Don’t waste your orders, though. They’re great. At least have it take-out.” Skirt Lady did not expect to be answered like that, and so were the other interested customers, and she was not aware of her blush. She murmured a ‘Thank you’ to Y/N and was surprised to see the French and British ‘waiters’ at their table with their orders already in a take-out bag. And with that, the three friends left Cafétea without receiving an ‘Until next week’ from the French man, and not even a smile from the jolly Brit.

Y/N took time to breathe in some calmness and exhaled her exhaustion. She then looked at the two owners of the shop, and then around, and realized that some other customers were looking at her direction. She suddenly felt embarrassed, and no more was her ‘pissed off’ aura. She looked down and apologized to them sheepishly for “any possible inconvenience she might have caused to both the owners and the customers.”

As if they were very close, Oliver walked to Y/N and hugged her. “No, Poppet, you should not apologize.” He was really concerned and amazed at the same time; and later thought that Y/N would be a great guard, er, ally.

And Francis, to show his concern and support, turned to the customers. “Is any of you troubled by this?”

Some of the customers who were also audience of the previous scene shook their heads. And as if some clarification were needed, the ‘hot’ man replied, “Not by her”, referring to Y/N. And just like that, they all agreed and everyone minded their own business.

Perhaps he understood Y/N’s feelings. If it was his plate of pancakes and maple syrup that was threatened to be wasted in a very disapproving way, he might have done the same as that customer did. That customer who he also always saw in Cafétea every Wednesday or Thursday for the past seven months except for the past two weeks because of his stupid brother; that customer who usually ordered the same coffee and cupcakes yet sometimes might change, who always continuously wrote something undecipherable until she remembered her then cold coffee, but nevertheless would drink it; that customer who always seemed interested in his pancakes and maple syrup but never ordered them for herself; yes, that customer Francis and Oliver knew. He would not ask them, though, for he already knew her name.


	4. Chapter 4

Going out when one was an introvert was never easy, especially if dealing with people could not be avoided, but Y/N should go out at least once a week. She did and did not want to tolerate her isolation by choosing to buy supplies, food especially, from the local grocery store. A trip to Cafétea was like a prize for herself for going out, only it came first before her necessary shopping and some duties. Five blocks away from the shop was good enough, with sometimes free flower-picking along the way from plants wanting to escape some unknown neighbors’ fences.

It had been two weeks since she was the spotlight of Cafétea for a very few moments, but to her, the unexpected attention, which she thought was also not very positive, it still bothered her from time to time. She would carefully spy around looking for some other people who might have been present at the peak of her Cafétea customer life so she could avoid them. And seeing the tall blonde man that was always just sitting silently next to her did not ease her anxiety. But like always, she took that usual seat, and the other one would always occupy the table next to it, which, unconsciously to both of their relief, was always available; as if their names were engraved on the silence of that space.

The previous week, just a week after the incident, he did not say anything to her, and she did not say anything to him as well. But as soon as she saw him on his usual spot, as if ‘her table’ was a prize or a curse that seemed to emptily wait for her arrival (but she took that spot anyway), she remembered that that man spoke up ‘that time’. And in an instant, her mind was flooded with thoughts and mixed emotions. Should she thank him? For what? Did he defend her? No, perhaps he was just a just man. And he was almost also directly involved. But should she thank him? She kept asking herself, until her eyes landed again on the tower surrounded by moat of maple syrup, and she just took out her notebook and pen.

And now was the second week, and it was just the same, and it would just have been the same if only she remembered she had picked a flower that morning on her way to Cafétea; if only she did not react violently, or rather, very surprised, as her hand touched its suddenly unfamiliar petals when she got her notebook from her bag, and if only she did not accidentally tossed it out of shock. If only it did not land on the man next table’s tower, then it would just have been the same.

Realizing the result of her action, her eyes widened at the sight of the flower replacing the butter’s place. The tower was invaded; the moat of maple syrup was not very effective. And oh, the owner looked surprised, shocked, and perhaps angry.

“Sir Maple, I- I’m sorry, I did not mean to…” was all that she could utter.

But the sunglasses of the man could not hide the sudden change of his expression. A crease between his brows was just forming while he was about to look for the invader when he heard what he was called. It echoed to his ears, and the furrow on his brows vanished. “What did you just call me?”, he managed to ask the distraught perpetrator.

“Sir Map- … I… it was an accident.” Trying to regain social composure, Y/N continued. “I’m very sorry about that. I will just buy you another tower.” Realizing her ‘mistake’, she hurriedly blabbered to try to overlap what she already said. “Pancakes, pancakes, I mean, and maple syrup. The flower is not dirty, though, I just picked it this morning and, but, I’ll take responsibility of the ruins.”

Indeed, it did not very much clear the situation. Nevertheless, it amazed ‘Sir Maple’.

Y/N was disturbed. She realized it was not a very good idea to playfully make a ‘plot draft’ out of someone else’s food, especially if that someone was just at the table next to you.

Embarrassed and red, she stood up to escape to the direction of the counter. She believed Oliver or Francis could easily handle this. ‘Sir Maple’ was not the cheerful type, Y/N noticed even before; very far from Oliver’s joyful nature. Perhaps Francis could effortlessly manage this, without adding more to the scene. Perhaps she needed both of them and a refill of her coffee for her to calm down.

He might have not known, but ‘Sir Maple’ was red himself; trying to refrain from laughing. Yet he was smiling as he looked at the flower on his pancake ‘tower’. “Sir Maple, eh? What the fuck.” He chuckled and took the flower from his food. “Boule de neige.” And he brought it up to his nose, with some maple syrup still dripping from its petals and stem. And he smelled the fragrance of the rose mixed with maple and morning walk. He licked off some dripping maple syrup from the petals to not waste its flavor without minding if anyone would see him. And then he carefully laid it on a napkin beside his plate with a plan of preserving it. He got back on eating his ‘ruined’ pancake. He did not walk after Y/N to stop her from ordering a new plate of pancakes, for ‘Sir Maple’ would not mind another ‘tower’ anyway.


	5. Chapter 5

Francis was used to seeing Y/N contemplating or just being serious, and so seeing her approaching the counter with hidden but obvious panic weight from her steps that was very unusual meant something even more serious was happening. Y/N usually looked calm and never looked like what she looked like today. Embarrassment was the first word that came to Francis’ mind. “Not a good day?” He greeted her as she reached him.

“Perhaps. Uh, Francis, I need a… where’s your maple? Pancake? I can’t find it on the menu.” Y/N finally calmed down a bit.

Francis just stared at her, and a little surprise in his eyes could be seen. Y/N could not tell if it was positive or negative reaction from the French man who always just displayed a dull expression. He let out a soft sigh and looked up at the menu displayed above, and even to that on the counter, as if he could point out any word that resembled ‘pancake’. Knowing that it really was not there for he made it himself, he just asked Y/N. “For whom?”

At first, confusion and surprise were the only response Y/N could give Francis. But then she was quick enough to think of possibilities that perhaps, pancakes were so common specifically to this shop that they did not even bother putting it in the menu (though she would still wonder why if that were the case). It could also be that since ‘Sir Maple’ was also a regular customer, and his order was always plentiful layers of pancakes, which might not be very common, the question “for whom” would be logical. And more because his table was always next to hers, same time as well, and perhaps same days. Perhaps Y/N looked like she suddenly wanted to try the same order as ‘Sir Maple’, and that that was what Francis saw in her a-little-hurried steps to the counter. But no; Francis knew better. For what else could be the reason only that ‘Sir Maple’ could get that great amount if Francis was not his older cousin?

She trusted Francis, and to not complicate things, she just told him directly, “For the man over there. I accidentally ruined his pancake tower. I should replace it.”

Francis, again, was just staring at her. And he did not look so down. His face this time was just neutral. “Alright. I will just serve it.” And then he went to the kitchen leaving a confused Y/N, for she did not see him register anything in the cashier.

“Maybe later.” Y/N told herself. And now she did not know how she could go back to her table with all her belongings there, and her coffee, and cupcake. She will be paying for it anyway – she encouraged herself. She slowly turned to take a look of the possibly impatiently waiting ‘Sir Maple’, but no. He was eating his pancakes like usual when she saw him. And Y/N was amazed she suddenly wondered how heavenly the pancakes served there tasted. She then wanted to order for herself, but there was no Francis nor Oliver by the counter. Maybe next time, she told herself.

Gently walking back to her spot next to him, Y/N sat casually on her chair. She was a lot calmer now. She took a sip from her coffee while secretly checking on ‘Sir Maple’. His expression only showed seriousness that could intimidate many other people, but Y/N was not really affected, for she was almost like that herself. She just noticed that the man did not look pissed off anymore. He even looked calm, and it was only when ‘Sir Maple’ turned his head a little to look at her that she realized she was already staring. She really wanted to try the pancakes and see for herself how one person could eat such great amount of them.

For her embarrassment to not be so noticeable, she did something she almost never did unless necessary: to start a conversation. “It will be served. Again, I’m sorry.” She was thankful she did not stutter this time. And then she smiled sheepishly before turning to her own food.

Even though they were light, the lively footsteps that could be heard approaching were no doubt Oliver’s. He was smiling with gleam and interest in his eyes when he reached Y/N’s table. “Hello, poppet! I didn’t know you also wanted to try this.”

With ‘this’, ‘Sir Maple’ almost flinched. Was Oliver trying to mock his favorite food?

Oliver set the latest tower on Y/N’s table. She could not protest, for she was suddenly enamored by the scent of what she was craving for just now. She thanked Oliver while she got her fork until she realized it was not hers.

Apparently, Oliver was just standing by her and just smiled at her as if he was waiting for something.

Y/N noticed this and finally managed to say, “Oh! Oliver, this is actually not…”

“not just hers.” ‘Sir Maple’ continued her sentence as he stood up, went and sat on the empty seat in front of Y/N.

Oliver giggled and blushed. He almost leapt with excitement. “It’s on the house!” He winked at Y/N and left with a story to tell the French man who patiently waiting by the counter.

No, Y/N was not afraid of ‘Sir Maple’, but right now, she was not very comfortable. Was it because of excitement? Would she really finally have a taste of the interesting pancakes and maple syrup? But her attention was suddenly captured by something else. The flower was carefully wrapped in a napkin which ‘Sir Maple’ took with him and put on the table.

“What are you looking at?” ‘Sir Maple’ asked while drowning the fresh pancakes with maple syrup. But surely, he knew what Y/N was looking at, and so he just continued to talk. “It’s mine. Pick yours.” And he gently put down the bottle of maple syrup on the table while he watched Y/N’s confused expression.

She was now looking at ‘Sir Maple’ in the eyes, if only he was not wearing sunglasses.

‘Sir Maple’ was not the type to easily get uncomfortable, but this time, he felt exposed, and he needed to do something about that. “Do you want to share this with me?” He asked Y/N casually, as if they were not strangers to each other. Well, they really were not, at least to themselves, but they both kept it.

Her spirits were uplifted. Finally, she could taste it, and at the very time she was craving for it. And finally, she could respond properly. “I’d love to.”

He replied with a smile – not like Oliver’s, not like Francis’ if he smiled, not like anyone else’s – and he put three pancakes on Y/N’s plate, and the rest of the tower was his.

Perhaps the silent agreement expressed in smiles that seemed to have been long wanted to greet each other was enough for a friendship to start.


	6. Chapter 6

“Mattie’s got a girlfriend! Mattie’s got a girlfriend!” Oliver sang happily to his own tune while washing the dishes after dinner. He could never trust Allen of such duty, afraid that Allen would either miss a spot or break Oliver’s precious plates and cutlery. Francis would take forever to finish washing a plate as he would definitely watch the gentle flow of the water through the porcelain and relate it to life and death.

“Mattie’s got a girlfriend??” Allen was still in the dining table indulging a late dessert, of course made by Oliver. He sounded more interested than he intended.

“Quit spreading things that are not yet.” Francis was wiping the already washed utensils.

“Mattie’s got a girlfriend!” Oliver continued to sing, and did not even bother to look at any of the two who were with him. “I wish he lives here with us so I can ask about their plans for marriage.”

Allen’s face was full of mixed expressions. “Mattie’s getting married??”

“They just became friends five weeks ago. You know Ol’ver.” It was Francis who answered the confused man, for the Brit could not be bothered.

“Who? Is that for real?” Allen then laughed aloud as if he figured this was just a prank. “Who would even date him?” He laughed again. “Bro doesn’t look bad, but what kind of a mad person would handle him?” He could not contain his emotions and expressed them all in mocking his twin by imitating his usually stoic face unless in front of pancakes and maple syrup. And then Allen stopped and contemplated with a slight hint of horror in his face. “Don’t tell me it’s a living pancake?”

Francis just frowned at Allen’s idiocy.

“Oh, my dear Allen, why do you think like that? I’m sure Y/N can handle our Mattie very well.” Oliver washed and wiped his hands clean. “Don’t be so envious my dear. Maybe someday, you’ll meet someone who can handle you too!” Oliver cheerfully hugged Allen with pity.

“What the hell, I’m not envious! Just surprised someone is… wait, did you say YN?” Allen almost hesitantly got some cash from his pocket and put it in the swear jar Oliver had quickly presented in front of him with a scolding finger and almost frowned big brows, but Allen still waited for a reply.

“Yes, Y/N, one of my precious customers.” Oliver cradled the almost full jar. “If only Mattie lives here, I’ll have three full jars in a month!”

Allen was smart enough to not ask more questions, for he thought, he could ask Y/N himself anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

She was unusually earlier and was really not in a mood to have another conversation with the rude red-haired man who seemed to have waited for her to sit before relaxing on the chair opposite her.

“Morning, Y/N.” Allen greeted with a smirk. He was excited to see her frown, for his presence was finally acknowledged, though Y/N remained silent and just continued enjoying her Wednesday morning treat and hopefully new plots and ideas.

Examining her as if she was a complicated piece of art: healthy bags under her eyes shouted ‘deadline’ in the tranquil darkness of the night; her slightly furrowed brows that did not welcome any form of disturbance; the mess of her hair almost covered her face, was it even combed before she got out of her house? “Aren’t you going to fix yourself?”

“Am I broken?” was her response. And for a moment, she stopped and contemplated on her reply. Was she broken? Yes, she was, but not anymore. And she continued writing her thoughts before they came to pass.

Either he or Y/N was not a smart kid in class to realize the answer to the confusion of the response to the question; there was no in between. And so he formulated a different question. “Are you and Matt dating?” Her sudden halt in writing indicated he got her full attention, though she did not look at him. “We’re twins, y’know.”

She sat up from almost crouching while writing and studied the man in front of her. She could see the resemblance in their jaws, height, and body. The red dye on his hair needed some fixing if he wanted to keep it red, for his blondeness was already noticeable. His clean-shaven face and handsome smile seemed to be like those in the cover page in some famous magazines. Now that was why he suddenly looked familiar. Not because he was Matt’s twin, but because he was indeed on the cover page on some famous magazine she never took interest in.

“Contacts.” Allen blurted as he noticed Y/N was staring at his eyes. “It’s actually a weird blue-violet or whatever, just like Matt’s, but his is more violet.” But how could Y/N compare? ‘Matt’ never uncovered his eyes with his black sunglasses. “I’m Allen, by the way. I can tell you’re not updated with what’s famous.” He was starting to get uncomfortable, for Y/N was still staring at his eyes. “Dating my brother, really? And I who’s so handsome and hot was rudely ignored?”

She did not realize she rolled her eyes before she answered. “I’m not dating anybody.”

“How about me?” With that, Allen smirked.

“You’re dating your brother?” Y/N almost chuckled as she tried to change the subject.

“What the fuck.” Disappointment and disgust detailed Allen’s sour face.

Now, Y/N laughed. “You know what, why don’t you just tell me about your life? Activities? Hobbies? Anything.”

“Wow, now interested in me? Can’t blame you, though.” His playful smirk was back again with an exhibition of a model’s pose.

It was Y/N’s face that showed disgust this time. “I might need a very confident character and you seem to be a good inspiration for that.”

“Is that a compliment?” Allen was not sure and so was Y/N.

A tower, or rather, a tall presence disrupted their conversation.

“Hey, bro!” Allen greeted his brother almost happily.

“Matthieu!” Y/N greeted almost very delighted than expected.

It was a good thing that that part of the dining area where they usually sat had seats long enough for two persons to fit, but that did not mean two big men like Allen and Matthieu. And so Matthieu sat beside an almost surprised Y/N, but she moved to give him enough space to sit.

Allen suddenly felt out of place. Cafétea really was the only place that seemed to never welcome a handsome and famous person like him.

Francis arrived with a tray on his hand. He put the plate of pancakes on the table in front of Matthieu. He glanced at Allen as if he was sending a message, “I’ll tell Oliver.”

But it was not necessary, for when Oliver just got out of the kitchen, he instantly recognized Allen’s fading red hair intimidating the lovely looking couple sitting in front of him. If it were not for Oliver’s couple, he might have stormed to that spot to pinch Allen’s ear and scold him. But then despite of them being Oliver’s couple, he still indeed stomped to that spot to pinch Allen’s ear and scold him. “My dear Allen, let’s go to the kitchen.” He greeted him with a cheerful smile that contradicted his action. He turned to his couple with a very expecting smile. “Stay where you’re sitting, poppets!” And with that, he released Allen’s ear and expected him to follow to the kitchen.

As expected, some customers who were updated of the famous turned their attention and attraction to the handsome red-haired model Allen walking towards the kitchen. And lucky were those who were directed by his smile, for they had an unusual morning swoon.

Y/N looked surprised and confused, which both of the men that were left with her understood.

“Just ask Matthieu.” Francis told Y/N before he left the two alone.


	8. Chapter 8

“So he was your twin.” Y/N asked but not as a question.

“Unfortunately.” Matthieu started to decorate the pancakes with a sea of maple syrup and stopped when he heard Y/N chuckled. “What?” He asked her curiously in his low voice.

“Nothing. I just… you’re fun to watch. And I’m comfortable with you. I’m glad you came. It was like a rescue.” She smiled as she tried to catch a glimpse of Matthieu’s eye color but failed.

“Did he bother you?” He continued the maple syrup spreading.

“Not so much.” Y/N was enjoying a slice of new cake made by Oliver.

Matthieu ate some of his own food before speaking again. “Allen and I are twins. Francis is our cousin, older. His dad was very rich but he lived with us when his mom left with my Dad when I was twelve. Mom was so depressed. Francis ran away. Mom married Oliver’s Dad when I and Allen were fourteen and we lived in their place. Mom and his dad both died in a car crash just some months after. Oliver found Francis somewhere and became friends. We all lived in Oliver’s house, until I decided to live on my own.”

_What a summary_ , was what Y/N thought, but she did not say it aloud. She was looking at Matthieu, studying his serious expression that did not seem to change much, though his tone was quite unusual. Y/N was not very sure what to say that she just kept silent and stared at him with care.

“I’m comfortable with you, too, Y/N.” Matthieu looked at her and smiled.

Y/N did not know she was blushing as she smiled back. But how would she know? Unless Matthieu told her, which he would not, and just kept it to himself.

 

Meanwhile in the kitchen, Oliver who was almost tiptoeing to reach the tall man was pointing a scolding hand at Allen. “Dear Allen, how many times did I tell you to not come here?”

“Ollie, don’t you think I’m helping? Look, you may have more customers if I hang around here, right?” Allen defended himself. He put his hands on the smaller man’s shoulders to try to calm him down. _Do not be deceived_ , was what Allen kept telling himself as Oliver’s smile widened.

Oliver contemplated about it, but that was also the same reason why he forbade Allen’s presence in his shop. “Exactly, my dear Allen. I don’t want customers who will come here just to see you. I want my customers to come here for what I and Francis make and serve! My Allen, this is a tea shop and not a stage!” He was still not very calm after all.

“How about I disguise? If I looked like Matt I won’t be noticed, right?” Allen could sometimes be very persistent.

“Allen, whatever mischievousness you’re planning, I am not letting that in my shop!”

There was no endearment this time and Allen knew Oliver was serious. “Outside, then!” he ruffled the Brit’s hair before he ran outside.


	9. Chapter 9

“Do you lack attention?” Y/N could sometimes be very good at hiding her surprise. She just continued picking some necessary supplies in the grocery shop without obviously paying much attention to the famous model who was now wearing a shoulder length blonde wig and black sunglasses with matching red flannel button shirt.

“Wow, you easily recognized me!” Allen sounded impressed and a bit disappointed. He and Matthieu almost had the same height and body, so how did Y/N realize instantly that he was Allen? Could it be that Y/N secretly checked him out and knew him well enough to tell the twins’ obvious difference?

“I know Matthieu enough to realize he is not the idiot cat-walking in a grocery aisle.” Y/N casually walked to the fruits section.

“Wow, you know him well haha uh-hm.” Allen’s self-esteem seemed to decrease a little, yet he still followed its cause. “So, you always go here after you had your Wednesday morning coffee, cake, and Matthieu?”

Now he even knew her schedule? “What do you need?” Y/N stopped to a section where there were no other people but the two of them. She did not want to be assumed as a participant in any foolish scandal involving a handsome model that could drive the media and mass crazy.

“Well, two weeks ago, when Mattie interrupted us, I happened to see you leave the shop.” As if that clearly answered Y/N’s unsaid question clearly displayed on her accusing expression, Allen smirked.

“Don’t you think you’re being creepy?” Y/N replied with no hesitation.

“What? No, I’m sexy!” And he moved closer to her to flash an irresistible smile, but it obviously had no effect to Y/N who then just continued to walk. “Seriously?! Have you seen my brother smile? Well, he can’t.”

“He can and he does.” Y/N quickly answered. “And his smile is the best.” She suddenly pictured in her mind Matthieu’s comforting smile and smiled herself.

“What the hell? I’m the model here!” Allen almost shouted in disagreement, but he was careful enough to not reveal his identity to the people in the grocery store. After all, he did not want to be seen with a plain woman who never seemed to take interest in him as she did to his plain twin brother no matter what he did. And despite of his awesome disguise as he would describe it, she was still unmoved.

“And you always had all the attention…”

“but not yours.” Allen cut her off and looked at Y/N seriously.

Y/N was starting to get uncomfortable. She did not realize her face was starting to turn red out of many emotions, namely annoyance, irritation, confusion, and embarrassment from yet unknown reason. “Cut it out. What does a handsome, hot, and sexy model need from an ‘ugly bitch’?” She then gave him a mocking look.

“Wow, you think I’m handsome, hot, and sexy?” Allen smirked.

“Those were your own descriptions of yourself! What’s wrong with you?” Y/N was so done. She inspected the contents of the basket she was carrying and started to head towards a basket lane cashier.

“Hey, can Mattie do this?” Allen hurried to walk ahead of Y/N to face her and showed an expression usually reserved for Oliver, or to anyone he needed something from: puppy eyes.

It was indeed effective, even to Y/N. Only, he did not think smart enough that doing it meant removing his sunglasses and revealing his famous face. Not that the sunglasses covered his entire face, but a famous model was a famous model despite of not wearing his red contacts. And he was quick enough to realize it, and so he needed to abort the finally effective move.

Upon watching the big man scurrying to put on his sunglasses back, Y/N suddenly wondered if that was the reason why Matthieu never removed his –, that he did not want to let others see his resemblance to his idiot twin brother.

“Your eyes are beautiful.” Y/N suddenly blurted as she saw the deep blue-violet shade on the handsome man’s eyes.

Allen was surprised and did not know he was slightly blushing of happiness. This was the first time Y/N truly complimented him. He wanted to shout but was smart enough to keep silent with a very pleased grin. Perhaps it was better, as of now, for him to not know that Y/N was currently trying to imagine how beautiful Matthieu’s eyes could possibly be.


	10. Chapter 10

“Your eyes are beautiful.” Allen was talking to his own reflection in the bathroom mirror and danced. “Hah! I knew it! I fucking knew it! She likes me!” He kept staring at his own eyes to his contentment while repeating Y/N’s comment over and over again. And he smiled like a fool. Until he remembered his brother’s eyes were more beautiful even though Allen denied it. “Damn.”

 

This Thursday morning was different, for there was no tower of pancakes on the table. Matthieu was not around. Y/N unconsciously kept on looking at the door to check on her friend’s possibly late arrival. And there he was, approaching her table, but she could not be deceived.

She greeted him with a sigh.

“Oh, come on, Y/N.” Allen was not impressed. Since they were in a corner spot, though by the window, and he was sitting facing the wall, or rather, Y/N, he casually removed his sunglasses and waited for some compliments. Perhaps disappointment was evident in Y/N’s silence, so he felt he needed to console her. “Well, something happened so I guess bro can’t come today.”

“What happened to Matthieu?” There was hidden worry in Y/N’s tone.

Allen stared at her and suddenly felt numb for a few moments. He lightly opened his mouth but no words came out. He blinked and then looked down before expressing the unknown in a silent sigh.

“What happened to Matthieu?” Y/N repeated. This time, her worry was desperately hidden, but she sounded more persistent.

Allen looked at her again and smiled. He did not feel like smiling, but he felt like he needed to. “Nah. Nothing. Just about his work. Don’t worry about my bro. He’s already big. He can handle himself in the wildlife.”

“The wildlife?” Y/N seemed surprise and confused.

“Yeah. He’s wild.” Allen smirked, and upon seeing no change of expression in Y/N’s face, he added more details. “Mattie’s a wildlife photographer, don’t you know that?”

Y/N was silent for a moment. “Really?” was all she could reply.

Obviously, Y/N did not know, and this surprised Allen. How could she not know about that? Was she really outdated of what’s famous? Even though his brother’s face was not known to the public, she could have at least realized that ‘Matthieu Williams’ was a well-known wildlife photographer, right? But that did not seem the case. Suddenly, Allen felt relieved without exactly knowing why.

Francis arrived with a tray and set down the table a cup of coffee for Allen. He gave Y/N a glance with understandable question.

“Don’t worry, Francis. Matthieu’s hair is better than that.” She smiled at the French man and sipped from her own cup of coffee.

“What the hell?” Allen looked at Y/N and then at Francis.

“And facial hair.” Francis added before he walked back to the counter.

“Continue to look that direction and you’re busted. If you’re not concerned of being seen by your fans, well, I am.” Y/N put down her cup.

“So my brother really looks boring even though we look alike? But of course, I’m more handsome.” Allen was not very surprised, for he believed his statement.

She frowned at the impostor in front of her and searched his face for some senses. Finding nothing else but mere curiosity and confidence, she replied. “No, Allen. Perhaps he just doesn’t look so approachable, especially compared to you.”

“So I look approachable.” Allen smiled like a child who was given a special medal.

Y/N stared at him and did not really know what to say.

Receiving no response, Allen asked more questions. “So how did you approach him?”

She clearly remembered the flower that ruined Sir Maple’s tower. And then he saw how Y/N’s eyes suddenly widened, her cheeks were flushed, and she did not reply.

Allen lowered his head closer to Y/N and whispered. “Don’t tell me you kissed him.”

“Are you crazy? Why would I do that?” Y/N’s red face only confused Allen even more.

“So you haven’t kissed yet?” Allen seemed really interested.

“Of course not! What’s wrong with you? Matthieu and I are friends. What are you talking about?” Y/N sought comfort from her cup of coffee.

Allen smiled and just sipped contentedly from his own cup of espresso.

“Aren’t you busy?” Y/N asked curiously, having no idea how much of a free time a so-called famous model had to loiter around pretending someone else.

“Free day, hah! So does long hair suit me?” Allen could easily open a new topic to discuss.

Y/N almost cringed at his question, or rather, upon looking at him, for though it suited Allen, she could not help but feel uncomfortable seeing a Matthieu acting like a fool, or at least, not so Matthieu. “Not bad. But why Matthieu? Why not disguise as someone else? Or no one in particular?” Y/N should mentally take note of some possible useful information, in case, of course, she would need a character like Allen.

“You won’t ignore me if I’m Matthieu.” Allen replied in an isn’t-it-obvious tone.

Y/N suddenly felt guilty. Was she being unfair, too rude? She contemplated for a while while staring at the now innocent looking man in front of her. “I didn’t completely ignore you when you’re you. Remember that time you were so much of an asshole for calling me a bitch?”

First impressions mattered after all. Allen could not defend himself, for that was really a dumb thing to do. Why did he do it anyway?  He might be hard to handle at times, but he was not that much of an asshole. And had Oliver known that exact detail of treating his customer, Allen would be dead. So why did he do it? Was he that desperate to get the attention of every single person he encountered? “I was not used to being ignored.”

_That’s so mature_ , was what Y/N thought, but she chose not to judge, thinking that perhaps there was a sad history to that want for attention, and so she dismissed the first impression subject despite of it being out of line. She just decided to know the reason behind it by asking it directly. “And why is that?”

“I’m just not used to being ignored, that’s it. I don’t want to be like bro y’know.” Allen shrugged as if to emphasize his point.

_What the heck_. “Are there no other reasons?” Y/N was not so sure what to feel about their conversation, and how long she could extend her understanding Allen’s behavior.

Allen seemed to think for a while and shrugged again. He saw how Y/N rolled her eyes before she sighed as if his reason was not valid. “There, there.” He pointed an accusing finger at Y/N. “Do you have any idea how many people drool for me, huh? And you have the guts to treat me this way?”

Y/N could not believe what she just heard. “Excuse me? Well, I’m not one of those many people drooling for you.”  Disgust was visible in Y/N’s expression.

“And look at you. You don’t even make an effort to make yourself look attractive. You look so plain. And isn’t that the same sweater you’re wearing that day? You’re like Oliver minus the pinks and ribbons and smile.” He was suddenly the one to bring back first impressions.

Not that she was offended of being compared to Oliver, for she liked him. She thought that his usual outfit suited his cheerful personality and he seemed to enjoy wearing them. But still, Y/N was almost speechless. She was always comfortable wearing blouses and sweaters. Never had she thought it would be noticed in a bad way. It was a good thing she had long mastered to not care on what people might say on what she wore or what she looked like. She shut her eyes as if to gather more patience and looked at the judge in front of her. “Well, I’m sorry, Sir, if I don’t fit your standards or whatsoever as if I care. Now if you would leave me be, we could both have peace.” Y/N tried to smile as if that was the only thing left for her to be still.

“No way.” Allen crossed his arms and sat more comfortably on supposedly Matthieu’s place.

“What’s wrong with you?” Y/N took a deep breath and just tried to focus on the remaining cupcake on her plate.

“Hey.” Allen noticed the silence between them and how he suddenly seemed invisible, for Y/N busied herself with her notebook. “Hey.” He reached to tap her shoulder, and was finally noticed again. “What’re you writing?”

“Seriously? Why are you still here?” Y/N looked at Allen’s face searching for any trace of shame or anything related to it, but found nothing aside from a child’s curiosity.

“Free day, I told you.” He was trying his best to catch at least a glimpse of what Y/N was doing in her notebook.

Y/N sighed in defeat. Had she no respect for human complexity despite of not understanding everything about it, Allen might have lost his will to live now. “You know what, Allen, you’re so… complicated.”

“But you still like me, right?” Allen asked with pure hope in his tone.

“What?” A now straight-faced Y/N asked.

“I mean, like how you like Mattie.” Allen wanted to be specific.

_Definitely not_. But Y/N did not say it out loud, at least not exactly that. “No.”

Perhaps Allen’s face really had a child’s innocence if he was not fooling around for Y/N to feel pain in her chest as she saw how his broad shoulders drooped together with his confident smile as if he was denied an expected welcome from home.

“We can be friends.” Y/N gulped as she sacrificed her offer. “But not like Matthieu.” Y/N could sometimes be really frank, and so seeing a half-forced smile from Allen did not much relieve her.

“If you say so.” Allen looked down and noticed that his cup was already empty. He happened to glimpse on Y/N’s cup and drank its remaining contents, and watched a surprised Y/N who seemed to be ready to kill him. “Cold as you.” And with that, he observed how Y/N froze and just blankly stared at his blue-violet eyes.


	11. Chapter 11

It was a peaceful Wednesday morning without Allen snooping around. Y/N was sitting across Matthieu who was wolfing down his breakfast. She wanted to ask him why he was not around the previous week, but who was she to ask? She did not want to seem like a clingy friend, though she was just worried and curious. It was not his obligation to tell her his whereabouts, his profession, and everything about him, anyway. And she was trusted enough to be told of Matthieu’s family background. And she thought that was enough, so she just kept quiet. Not to mention he did not exactly know her much as well.

She quickly shifted her mind into wondering if Matthieu knew about his brother’s recent adventures. Would he be angry? How was the twins’ relationship with each other anyway, being so different? And Oliver must have had a hard time disciplining Allen, but he must have been an effective disciplinarian, for Matthieu mentioned before that Allen was sometimes scared of Oliver. And Francis would just watch, or not at all.

“Sorry I was not here last week.”

Y/N was not prepared to hear that. Why was he apologizing? He did not need to. But perhaps it was a little obvious in her silence and new expression, Matthieu asked her stillness in words. “Missed me, eh?” And then he smirked. It was almost like Allen’s but it was also a different one. Y/N was suddenly unsure if it was really Matthieu or Allen who was in front of her. But the way he walked towards their table, the way he sat and waited almost impatiently for his pancakes, and the way he almost drowned that tower of pancakes with maple syrup, the way he feasted on it, there was no doubt it was Matthieu.

She just stared at him as if trying to look through his sunglasses, trying to look into his eyes just to make sure. She was too focused on trying to see-through the darkness that she did not notice the man’s face started to turn red.

_Maple_. That was the taste on her lips. _Wait, what?_ Only then she realized that there was a piece of pancake drowned in maple syrup on her lips. It was on Matthieu’s fork and he was holding it. She felt a very light push to it, and so she opened her mouth. Only then she realized Matthieu just fed her a pancake from his own plate with his own fork. And she was blushing, but of course, she did not know as she tried desperately to be casual but was obvious enough to fail. Was it big deal? Who knew? Perhaps Matthieu, who quickly sliced another piece for himself.


	12. Chapter 12

It was a pleasure in the eyes of Oliver to see Matthieu and Y/N sharing the same table. It meant more available space for other customers, and of course, the closeness of the two. But that available space was definitely not supposed to be occupied by another Matthieu who was entering the shop.

“Fuck.” Allen rushed back outside upon seeing Oliver approached him with a very familiar smile. Perhaps knowing some of his twin’s schedule, which sometimes also failed, was useless if he forgot to consider Oliver’s.

Francis was not surprised, for this was the fourth time Allen had sneaked inside Cafétea disguised as his twin brother, only he was now caught by Oliver. Francis never intervened in Allen’s play, for Y/N did not seem to mind it anyway. He was just curious, but not really worried, had Matthieu discovered. And perhaps the answer to that curiosity might be answered soon.

Seeing another him running outside to a parked sports car, there was no doubt his brother was having an adventure. Matthieu’s calm hand that was resting on the table started to clench into a fist as he watched Allen escaped Oliver. He followed the car with his eyes until he tasted maple and was surprised to see an obviously embarrassed Y/N almost tremblingly holding his other hand with a fork and maple syrup-covered pancake on the end touching his lips.

He unclenched his fist and held Y/N’s hand that was holding his other hand before he ate the offer. She knew he was staring despite the sunglasses hindering. And he could tell she was about to let go when he ate the piece, but he kept on holding her hand. He knew she was starting to get uncomfortable, and so he gently let go of her hand which she almost quickly pulled back.

“Do you know anything about another me?” He then asked Y/N to change the atmosphere.

Despite of her awkwardness, she managed to reply like her normal. “You mean Allen?”

“What happened?” Matthieu interrogated but acted not so interested.

“He fooled around dressed and looked like you.”

“What did he do to you?”

“The usual. He’s bothersome, but tolerable.”

Matthieu hesitated for a moment, but asked it anyway. “Were you deceived?”

Y/N almost frowned. “Matthieu, would you catwalk in a grocery aisle?”

Matthieu was relieved but asked another question. “You were with him in the grocery store, eh?”

If there was something similar about the twins besides most of their natural physical appearance, it was their interest in some other details. “It’s where he first tried to cosplay as you.” Y/N remembered.

“Were you always with him?” Matthieu suddenly sounded like a combination of Allen’s and Oliver’s concerns.

“Not really.” She tried to think when and how she spent time with Allen and continued. “Wednesdays or Thursdays as well, usually before you arrive or when I’m in the grocery. And last week.”

 

It was not a smart thing to do to still continue a plan when one was already caught, but Allen did it anyway, and so he was still surprised to see the real Matthieu who calmly walked from hiding in a different aisle to where he was enjoying Y/N’s silent company.

“Hey, bro! Haha I didn’t know you’re here!” Allen greeted his brother as he tried to hide himself in his wig that resembled Matthieu’s blonde hair.

Matthieu did not speak. None of them wanted to create a scene in the local grocery store. Some other customers who happened to pass by walked slower to look at the two identical handsome hunk men with a woman between them who did not seem to mind the twins who seemed about to punch each other any moment, for she was busy picking some supplies. Of course, Y/N would not want to create a scene by stopping a fight that was not happening. Being a regular customer between two Matthieus was normal after all.

She casually walked to other aisles to get what she needed, and some customers lost interest, for they thought the two were just her bodyguards. And upon hearing such comment like that despite keeping a good distance from the twins she did not realize were following her, she started to get uncomfortable. She suddenly wished for Oliver’s presence, but Oliver must still be busy in the kitchen that time. Y/N tried to be normal as much as she could just to finish her necessary shopping and finally go home.

“I can drive you home. I’ve a car.” Allen offered Y/N with a confident grin, and a competitive one to his brother.

Matthieu said nothing, and thought for the first time that he should have brought with him his truck.

“No, thank you, Allen. I live not very far from here. I can walk home.” Y/N seemed to be oblivious of the tension between the twins.

“Then I’ll… fuck.” Allen saw Oliver from the distance. “Bro, save me! ‘til next time, Y/N!” and he rushed away without waiting for a reply from neither his brother nor Y/N.

The two looked at the direction where Allen saw Oliver, and indeed there he was, the smiling Brit in his pink vest and blue bow, and he greeted them. “Hello, poppet! Hello, dear Mattie!”

“Oliver! It’s really you! But how about the shop?” Y/N stared at Oliver as if to prove he was really there.

“Oh, poppet, he may not look like it, but dear Francis is a very good barista, cashier, and everything! But I’m the chef!” Oliver cheerfully replied with joyful gestures of his hand. “Have you seen my dear Allen?”

“You live in the same house.” Matthieu reminded him.

It was Matthieu who could easily calm Oliver when it came to Allen. A simple sentence or even a fragment from him would do. Oliver sighed, and as if refreshed, he smiled a true happy one and looked at the two. “I’ll go back to the shop then!”

“Take care!” Y/N was amazed.

“You live near here, eh?” Matthieu reopened the halted conversation.

“Yes. How about you?”

“I’ll walk you home.” That surely did not answer Y/N’s question, but it was still his reply.


	13. Chapter 13

Two weeks of peace seemed a long time not seeing Allen around after Y/N offered friendship. Not that she was searching for him, but just found it odd. It was then she realized how different the atmosphere could be whenever she was with Allen. Now that he was not here, everything seemed so quiet, despite of not being alone.

Only the clinks and clanks of the forks and cups could be heard from their shared table. Both Y/N and Matthieu were the silent type, unless they had something to say; unlike Allen who seemed to have much.

Silence between them never bothered Y/N or Matthieu, anyway. It was comfortable silence after all.

Y/N’s thoughts were not very still as the atmosphere. Matthieu was the first man to come to her house. She did not want to make it a big deal, for it was not, but she was worried about so many friendly things. She never had a visitor, and she never knew how to have one. She did not know how to invite a friend over for even just a cup of coffee, and perhaps some pancakes. Would it be alright if she invited Matthieu? They had been friends for over six months now, though they just met once a week. And they had been secretly studying each other for more than a year. Though, again, that meant just once a week. But how does one invite someone, anyway?

“Are you free tomorrow?” Matthieu suddenly asked.

“Yes, I think that’s alright.” Y/N thought she was talking to herself until she realized it was not her mind’s voice. “Wait, what?”

“Are you free tomorrow?” Matthieu repeated almost reluctantly as it sounded softer.

Y/N just blinked at him. “Oh, uhm, why? I guess.” And she realized she did not even know how to properly accept a possible invitation.

Perhaps Matthieu felt the same, for he fell asleep practicing the previous night, but was just more casual than Y/N. “Nature walk.” Perhaps he needed more practice, but it was, indeed, enough, for delight colored Y/N’s smile. And he had more confidence. “It’s a date, then.”

She was speechless and was turning red. “A… date?”

Matthieu slightly moved as if it could ease his sudden hidden nervousness. “If it’s alright.” Wearing dark sunglasses was a good thing after all; he could stare at and study Y/N’s expressions, and her almost shy but sure nod. Though he wanted to see her blush clearly, he would not remove his usual cover. Maybe next time, when they were alone together, they both could look at each other without a thin gap.

To go back to being casual, Y/N decided to ask something she forgot to ask before. “Matthieu, I have a question. This is just, well, I’m not sure if you noticed that, but I believe you were here when I first met Allen.”

Matthieu would not say it, but he knew that his twin knew to never bother a pancake-eating Matthieu. So he just answered her with what he really thought that time about her despite of him being busy with his tower. “You did great.”

 

Sharing random trivia and knowledge on flora and fauna while enjoying their first date was like an educational tour. It was not a contest, though, who could provide more details and information about specific roots and leaves and wings and prints they met along the way.

Matthieu reserved this specific day for this date, but he could not help wanting to capture some shots of the sceneries and movements that were not even new to him.

Y/N did not mind their sudden halts whenever Matthieu wanted to focus on capturing something with his pocket camera he almost refused to bring but brought anyway. She was amazed at how passionate Matthieu looked, and how he seemed to enjoy everything around him without forgetting his date; guiding Y/N and holding her arms when crossing slippery paths. She was very glad to see him in nature. And it was the first time she saw his eyes.

Blue-violet. Indigo. Purple. Y/N was not sure what that shade was, but she was sure it was more beautiful than the violet darkness of a clouded dawn.

She was staring at him, and she was smiling by simply looking at him. And he captured it. It was indeed a good thing he brought even just a small camera after all. And then he smiled, not at the camera, but at Y/N.

Perhaps it was butterflies in the stomach, no, they were outside, around them, as if wanting to be captured, until one landed on Y/N’s hair. She was enchanted, but was not sure what to do, and so she did not move, and just enjoyed the feeling of being connected with nature. And Matthieu did not waste the chance of taking the shot. He clicked, and walked closer towards Y/N. He almost hesitated as he though if it would be alright, but he kissed her anyway.

 

It was not a surprise that Oliver demanded a celebration for the reality of his couple. Matthieu and Y/N must enjoy his cooking at his own small Victorian house. He was so excited he wanted to take Allen with him to shop for his ingredients.

Allen was not so pleased. “Shit. I was just gone for more than two weeks and this is all I missed?”

Oliver cheerfully glided towards him presenting the swear jar.

“Fuck.” Allen took out his wallet.

“That’s two, my dear!” Oliver smiled as his swear jar was fed. He then fled upstairs to his room to write a list of what he would need to buy for his dreamed celebration.

Allen lay at the couch and stared at their auction-worthy chandelier.

Francis sat at the shorter couch near Allen. “Do you like Y/N?” He asked directly.

Allen then looked at Francis almost in shock. It was the first time he seemed to take real interest and care for Allen. He stared back at the ceiling and searched for his answer. He thought carefully for he did not want to waste the opportunity to have a serious talk with Francis, not that Francis was never serious anyway. “I don’t know.” He tried to reminisce the rather few times he spent with Y/N. “She was interesting. And different. The first one to not fall for my sexiness. Mattie finally received attention.”

“Do you like Y/N?” Francis repeated as if he did not hear what just Allen said.

Allen looked back at the older man with confusion and asked himself. “Do I like her?” He contemplated once again. “We’re friends now, y’know. She’s not my type anyway.” And with that, he tried to dismiss the topic by staring back at the ceiling and remembering all the foolishness he had done to get Y/N’s attention. _Maybe I almost liked her._ Until he spoke again. “We’re friends now. It’s good. And Mattie finally has the attention I always had and never will have.” Then he closed his beautiful eyes.

Francis just kept silent and stared at the ceiling himself.


	14. Another Ending (2P!America x Reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If reader ends up with Allen... (First ten chapters before this)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This series is actually (2P!Canada vs. 2P!America) x Reader, and originally, the reader ends up with 2P!Canada (Matthieu). Now, this specific chapter was written to fulfill a reader's request on the reader ending up with 2P!America (Allen). This will be ALMOST the same. Please read chapters one (1) to ten (10) before reading this "Another Ending". Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it!

It was a peaceful Wednesday morning without Allen snooping around. Y/N was sitting across Matthieu who was wolfing down his breakfast. She wondered if Matthieu knew about his brother’s recent adventures. Would he be angry? How was the twins’ relationship with each other anyway, being so different? And Oliver must have had a hard time disciplining Allen, but he must have been an effective disciplinarian, for Matthieu mentioned before that Allen was sometimes scared of Oliver. And Francis would just watch, or not at all.

It was a pleasure in the eyes of Oliver to see Matthieu and Y/N sharing the same table. It meant more available space for other customers, and of course, the closeness of the two. But that available space was definitely not supposed to be occupied by another Matthieu who was entering the shop.

“Fuck.” Allen rushed back outside upon seeing Oliver approached him with a very familiar smile. Perhaps knowing some of his twin’s schedule, which sometimes also failed, was useless if he forgot to consider Oliver’s.

Francis was not surprised, for this was the fourth time Allen had sneaked inside Cafétea disguised as his twin brother, only he was now caught by Oliver. Francis never intervened in Allen’s play, for Y/N did not seem to mind it anyway. He was just curious, but not really worried, had Matthieu discovered. And perhaps the answer to that curiosity might be answered soon.

Seeing another him running outside to a parked sports car, there was no doubt his brother was having an adventure. Matthieu’s calm hand that was resting on the table started to clench into a fist as he watched Allen escaped Oliver. He followed the car with his eyes. “Do you know anything about another me?” He asked Y/N.

 “You mean Allen?” She replied after taking a sip from her coffee.

“What happened?” Matthieu interrogated but acted not so interested.

“He fooled around dressed and looked like you.”

“What did he do to you?”

“The usual. He’s bothersome, but tolerable.”

Matthieu hesitated for a moment, but asked it anyway. “Were you deceived?”

Y/N almost frowned. “Matthieu, would you catwalk in a grocery aisle?”

Matthieu was relieved, but also annoyed at his brother how his appearance was used foolishly.

 

It was not a smart thing to still continue a plan when one was already caught, but Allen did it anyway, and so he was still surprised to see the real Matthieu who calmly walked from hiding in a different aisle to where he was enjoying Y/N’s silent company.

“Hey, bro! Haha I didn’t know you’re here!” Allen greeted his brother as he tried to hide himself in his wig that resembled Matthieu’s blonde hair.

Matthieu did not speak. None of them wanted to create a scene in the local grocery store. Some other customers who happened to pass by walked slower to look at the two identical handsome hunk men with a woman between them who did not seem to mind the twins who seemed about to start a fight any moment, for she was busy picking some supplies. Of course, Y/N would not want to create a scene by stopping a fight that was not happening. Being a regular customer between two Matthieus was normal after all.

She casually walked to other aisles to get what she needed, and some customers lost interest, for they thought the two were just her bodyguards. And upon hearing such comment like that despite keeping a good distance from the twins she did not realize were following her, she started to get uncomfortable. She suddenly wished for Oliver’s presence, but Oliver must still be busy in the kitchen that time. Y/N tried to be normal as much as she could just to finish her necessary shopping and finally go home.

“Remove that wig.” Matthieu commanded his brother when they already were outside.

“Yeah, I look like an idiot like this.” Allen mocked his brother referring to Matthieu’s appearance.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Matthieu corrected him.

“I can drive you home. I’ve a car.” Allen offered Y/N with a confident grin, and a competitive one to his brother.

Matthieu said nothing.

“I can walk home.” Y/N simply replied.

“But I can… fuck.” Allen saw Oliver from the distance. “Bro, save me!” And he tried to rush away while he snatched Y/N’s shopping bags, but he was too late, and so was Y/N’s protest.

Indeed, there he was, the smiling Brit in his pink vest and blue bow, and was approaching them. “Hello, poppet! Hello, boys!”

“Oliver! It’s really you! But how about the shop?” Y/N stared at Oliver as if to prove he was really there.

“Oh, poppet, he may not look like it, but dear Francis is a very good barista, cashier, and everything! But I’m the chef!” Oliver cheerfully replied with joyful gestures of his hand. “Now, dear Allen…”

“He’ll drive Y/N home.” Matthieu told Oliver.

It was Matthieu who could easily calm Oliver when it came to Allen. A simple sentence or even a fragment from him would do. But Oliver was not so calm this time. “But why?” His shoulders drooped but not his smile. _What happened to my couple?_

“I’m going somewhere.”

“I see.” Oliver half-heartedly nodded with a smile. He then turned to Allen who was thankful that he already removed the wig. “Dear Allen, you better take care of my dear poppet!”

“Of course!” Allen looked so happy having not received any scolding from Oliver. He thanked his brother with a soft punch on the arm.

Matthieu moved as if to motion Oliver to just go back to the shop, and that he was also to the same direction. He just lazily waved goodbye to his brother and Y/N, while Oliver waved with both arms.

“Take care!” Y/N bade the two as she moved towards Allen to get her grocery bags back.

“What are you doing?” Allen reacted as if those were his belongings, which earned great surprise and confusion from Y/N’s look. “I told you I’ll drive you home!”

“I told you I can walk home!” Y/N failed to snatch her just bought supplies that were already inside the car.

Allen held open the door for her like a gentleman, and Y/N was suddenly too tired to protest.

* * *

“Would you like my autograph?” Allen flashed a fashion magazine with his handsome face on the cover page and handed it to Y/N. Only traces of faded red dye were left on his hair, but his hair on the magazine was a bloody one, and so were his eyes.

Y/N simultaneously looked at him and on the magazine. She flipped through the pages and saw more of Allen’s face.

“That’s a Halloween special.” Allen bragged as he flipped through the pages himself to show Y/N his favorite shots.

Y/N looked at him and chuckled. “You really love yourself.”

“But not as much as I love you.” Allen replied with a wink, but slowly turned red himself like the speechless Y/N. But he was quick. “That’s a pick-up line haha!”

Y/N looked so embarrassed and awkward for thinking something else. Allen might just be practicing some lines anyway, even though he was a model who had no script. She just kept quiet.

Some customers were peeking at their direction. Allen’s natural self could not hide his famous face anyway, despite of different eye and hair color. And his attractiveness was very much evident even without make-up.

It did not bother him, for he was used to being the center of attention, but Y/N was, and so she tried to gently shoo Allen away. “Aren’t you worried?”

Allen seemed so relax as he sipped from his cup of coffee. “Nah. Oliver’s out today.”

“That’s not what I mean, you fool. The other customers are looking.” Y/N almost whispered while still trying to act casual, at least for the eyes of other customers.

“I’m famous, y’know. That’s normal.” He smiled to assure her. Allen, indeed, did not mind them, especially now that he was enjoying Y/N’s company without knowing Y/N’s true concern.

“Are you crazy? You’re with me, a plain one, and they are seeing that. Aren’t you afraid of scandal or whatsoever? Because well, I am. I don’t want to get involved in that.” Y/N explained.

Allen looked at her and laughed. “Babe, you worry much. You might as well get used to it.”

_Did he just call me ‘babe’?_ Y/N was just about to protest when she noticed Matthieu approaching them. _Thank god._

Matthieu sat next to Y/N as his usual spot was occupied by his brother.

But Allen stood up to offer his seat to Matthieu who just looked at him and paid no much attention. “I should have sat there first. Damn.” And so Allen just sat down again regretful.

Y/N was blushing of embarrassment and confusion. _Is this a prank? What’s with them?_

Matthieu was never the type to waste time but he wanted to prove something. He slightly bent down his head and moved closer to Y/N and watched how both Allen and Y/N reacted. Allen seemed about to panic, while Y/N seemed to be waiting for a secret message. Matthieu almost whispered only for the two to hear as if it was indeed a secret message. “Oliver is here.”

And Allen quickly looked at the direction of the door to check and saw Oliver just about to enter. “Fuck.”

And it was too late, for Oliver instantly looked at their direction and noticed Allen as if it was by scent he knew of his presence. Oliver cheerfully walked towards them to greet. “Hello, poppets! Allen, perfect! Come with me. I need to buy something for the shop!”

It was Matthieu who stood up as if to indicate he was volunteering for the task. Oliver looked so happy but still expressed his concern. “But Mattie, are you sure you are leaving Y/N with dear Allen?”

Allen looked offended.

“I’ll go.” was Matthieu’s only response and started to walk to the door with a glad Oliver who waved the two goodbye.

Allen briefly followed his brother with his eyes and quickly turned his gaze to Y/N who was busy looking at Matthieu who was now outside. “Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s not every day you see the one you like. Let’s go get Mattie. I’ll go with Oliver.” His tone almost failed him, but Allen covered it up with a wink. After all, that was what he was very good at, winking and smiling, though not always for real. He was a professional model after all.

Y/N then shifted her gaze at the man in front of her and moved to try to sit more comfortably.

Allen could tell that Y/N seemed to not stand any sooner to go outside and follow his brother. He did not know exactly what to feel. He was used to receiving attention because of his handsome looks, as if it was a routine. He was a model. But he was not the only model, and so after his schedule, the staff, the photographers, and all the attention were quickly given to another one, and to the next, until he was the focus of the camera again. Had his twin chose the same profession as him, he was sure that Matthieu would have the spotlight. No, they would both have the spotlight, but Matthieu’s would definitely be brighter.

He kept quiet for a while and enjoyed the silence between him and Y/N he never thought could be comfortable. He was used to loudness: his environment and his own loudness especially his uncontrolled cries after that time their father left them and their mother died, and his sometimes forced high volumes of music on his headphones to drown the silence of the night that seemed to always bring back the past. Only around Oliver, Matthieu, and sometimes Francis, could he enjoy his true noise in laughter. And peace he enjoyed only while alone, but not today. “You stayed.”

Y/N seemed to be reading his mind by looking through his eyes, for her eyes showed care, though she just kept silent.

“I want to spend more time with you.” Allen absentmindedly blurted.

Y/N looked at him with the straightest face she could master and acted as normal as her usual, but red was starting to show on her cheeks as she tried to focus on her food and coffee.

* * *

Three weeks with Allen and without a word from Matthieu made Y/N question many things. _Is Matthieu angry at me? Did I do something to make him angry? Shall I ask him? How shall I ask him? What will I tell him?_ Anyone could tell that she was greatly bothered, for even though she was not the cheerful type, her face looked like of a lover left behind.

“Do you like my brother?” Allen found the confidence to ask, as if he had none.

“Yes.” Y/N could be really straightforward at times.

Now Allen did not know exactly how he should view Y/N’s answer, and so he thought of a more specific question. “In what way?”

Y/N suddenly imagined Matthieu in her mind. She was comfortable with him, and he made her blush. Perhaps she had a crush on Matthieu, but he was more like a very very dear friend she would not mind to spend her life with. She remembered the first time they talked to each other, his pancake tower and the maple moat. “He’s the best companion. If I am Sherlock, I’d love him to be my Watson. I’ll trust him with my life. And if he trusts me with his, I’d be glad to protect it. I really like Matthieu.”

Allen was still not sure, but he was somehow relieved and gathered the courage to speak for his side. “I like you.”

Y/N did not move for a while as if any movement meant great noise that could erase what she just heard. She then slowly turned to look at Allen and blinked as if confirming what she just heard. “Allen… you don’t.”

“How can you tell I don’t?”

“How can you tell you do?”

And it was Allen’s turn to not move. He then inhaled courage and readied himself. “Do you hate me?”

“I don’t.”

“Do you like me?”

“Well, I’m not a fan, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Allen fell silent, for he did not know how to approach the densest person he knew. “What if my brother likes you?”

Allen was confused and relieved to observe Y/N’s expression only being contemplative. There was no trace of a maiden in love, but a philosopher seeking answers for life’s questions; not like Francis though.

And as if they both needed the answer, Matthieu arrived without them noticing. He just casually sat beside Y/N like normal.

Perhaps being so much lost in thought, Y/N had the courage, or rather, absentmindedly spoke to Matthieu who just sat beside her. “Matthieu, I like you.”

Allen looked more affected. He was not prepared for this. Was that not what he also said to her earlier?

“I like you, too, Y/N.” Matthieu did not look surprised and he even gently patted Y/N’s head.

And with that, Allen stood up. “I guess I’ll go now.” And none of the two stopped him.

Matthieu waited for a few more moments to assure that Allen had already left before he slightly moved to face Y/N as if he was expecting some explanation.

“Allen told me he likes me.” Y/N’s straightforwardness could be useful if she could get some advice soon, which meant now.

“Do you like him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t force yourself to answer it now. It can wait.” Matthieu then took over his now empty seat.

“You’re right.” Y/N needed that assurance; without knowing in what way exactly Matthieu liked her, which he chose to just no longer tell and admit even to himself.

 

Walking outside with her grocery bag, Y/N was greeted by a smiling Allen who was then opening the car door for her.

But she just stopped. “Why are you here?”

Allen just shrugged and walked towards her to get the bag to put inside the car which he easily accomplished, for Y/N was still busy disbelieving everything. She followed walking anyway, as he presented the open door to her again.

* * *

Having a regular visitor twice a week had never hit Y/N’s imagination. If ever she was to invite someone over for a cup of coffee and perhaps a tower of pancakes, it could have been Matthieu. But it was Allen who always welcomed himself and felt at home in her small but cozy abode.

Matthieu seemed cool about it when she mentioned it to him. And instead of telling her something against his brother, well, at least not so much, he told her some of Allen’s most embarrassing moments. “Use those against him when he tried to fool around again.” That was his very helpful advice, which Y/N proved useful. Matthieu indeed was an ally, and she was so thankful for their friendship.

Six months of continuously having an “I’m home!” regular visitor only made her lazy to complain. And so she would just open the door for the foolish model and let him roam around her house while she continued working. She liked it anyway, though she never voiced it out, for she knew it would only give him too much confidence which he already had; and she was unprepared if ever he decided to sleep over because she definitely had no extra bed for that.

An opened book was suddenly almost shoved to Y/N’s face. It was familiar; the scent of the words, the texture of pages. It was her second book.

“I want your autograph.” Allen requested but sounded more like a command. Spending time in her place meant knowing her more, and that included knowing her pseudonym and published books which might even be more famous than him.

“Allen, this is my copy.” Y/N stared at Allen with a straight face.

“Come on, babe, you’ve got three copies in your shelf! I want that! Please!” There he went again with his puppy eyes.  “And sign it. Please!”

Y/N sometimes hated herself for always falling for those irresistible begging eyes.

“Yes!!” He looked so happy receiving his new book with its author’s autograph. “Next time we sign it’s our marriage contract.” And he was contented for Y/N’s turning red face as a reply before he snatched their first kiss.


End file.
